


Canvas

by Limelasers



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Drawing, Fluff, M/M, there is peace to be found at the witching hour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 22:42:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Limelasers/pseuds/Limelasers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short and fluffy- Steve can't sleep.</p><p>Originally a prompt here: http://fanfishfills.tumblr.com/post/56693616154/hi-me-again-i-have-an-another-prompt-maybe-steve</p>
            </blockquote>





	Canvas

"Whatchu drawun…?" Tony’s voice was sleepy and half-muffled by the pillow he had curled around and nuzzled into, working as his substitute for what he usually cuddled up to. His usual hug-subject was sat up at the head of the bed, holding his sketchbook in one hand and a pencil in the other. Steve smiled, dimming his bedside light even further.

"I didn’t mean to wake you." Steve said softly, watching fondly as Tony, soft and warm and cosy in ways people who knew him as a fizzing burst of genius and wit and energy would never have believed, shifted a little to rest his cheek against Steve’s knee. Steve stroked a hand through his tousled hair.

"S’okay." Tony murmured, peering over at his fiancé’s sketchbook. Upon realising his face was at the wrong angle, he attempted in quirk his eyebrows enough to sort of… lift his face so that his line of sight could be directed towards Steve’s book. “Whatcha drawin?"

"It’s. Uh." Steve looked a little bashful. “Embarrassing."

Tony’s grin grew in the darkness like he was the Cheshire Cat. “It’s me, isn’t it?”

"…" Steve sighed. “Yes."

"Can I see?" Tony sing-songed- he had promised Steve never to look into his sketchbook without permission, there were things in there Steve wasn’t ready to share and might never be, and that was okay, but that didn’t mean Tony didn’t want to see.

"Okay." Steve relented after a moment, turning the book round to show him. Tony was met by a carefully crafted drawing of himself, clear care and meticulous shaping in every soft line, hints of his arm muscles as he clung to his pillow, a soft, serene expression on his face. Something wet and heavy near the arc reactor flopped, and Tony was speechless.

"Do you like it…?" Steve asked, nervous. Tony, sleep-warm and tousle-haired, slid up his body and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

"I love it." He beamed, and Steve seemed to physically relax every muscle. “It’s got my favourite thing in: me."

"Egoist." Steve laughed.

"You seem to like it." Tony said smugly, tugging Steve back down into the bed.

"You know what?" Steve said in between soft kisses. “I rather think I do."


End file.
